


The Land Before Time

by cherie_morte



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dinosaurs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-06 04:04:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13403079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherie_morte/pseuds/cherie_morte
Summary: This is all Sam’s fault. Sam and his stupid, flailing limbs. All Dean was trying to do was get laid, and now he’s dodgingdinosaurs.





	The Land Before Time

**Author's Note:**

> Repost of 2010 fic originally posted [here](https://infatuated-ink.livejournal.com/48843.html) in the spirit of tomorrow's episode hopefully at least having one scene of Sam and Dean with dinosaurs. This is set during Season 6.

“Not your girlfriend, Dean. You don’t have to be so fucking careful.”

“Shut up,” Dean growls, shoving further into his brother.

Sam makes a sharp, surprised noise, but doesn’t let up. “That all you got? Really?”

Another rough thrust, and another groan from Sam as the bed rocks out and hits the wall. Dean’s got him on all fours, long legs crossing Dean’s at their ankles. Sam writhes under him, stretching like a cat, hands digging into the mattress so hard his knuckles are white.

“Fuck,” he says.

“Had enough, little brother?” Dean teases, not slowing his pace, but ready to if that’s what Sam wants.

Sam shakes his head. “Mmm, more Dean. Fuck, gimme more.”

Dean chuckles, not entirely sure he can fuck Sam any harder, not even entirely sure Sam really wants him to. A part of him suspects that Sam just doesn’t know how to shut up, not even when Dean is balls deep in him, fucking so rough his thighs are starting to burn from the pressure.

“Harder, Dean. Faster.”

“Stop bossing me, Sam,” Dean whispers, hot and low into his brother’s ear.

“Make me,” Sam replies, smirk evident in his tone. And fuck. When did his brother get so hot? “Make me with that big cock, Dean. Oh God, please.” 

Dean smiles, fisting a hand in his brother’s hair and pulling back hard. Sam lets out a small shout and then grinds down on the mattress, hard and leaking and hurting for release that Dean is very deliberately not giving him. He leans down, Sam’s head still pulled back, fingers clutching long strands. He knew there was a reason he let Sam get away with this stupid haircut.

“I said stop it, Sammy. Don’t make me say it again.”

He licks at the exposed skin of Sam’s neck, then bites into hot flesh.

“Fuck, Dean. Please,” he whimpers.

Dean smiles as he attempts to soothe the skin he irritated with a kiss. “That’s better, Sam. Beg for it.”

“Dean, Dean. Please, I want—” He breaks his thought to cry out again when Dean shoves his face down into the mattress and starts pumping his hips even more desperately as he approaches climax.

Dean finishes while Sam’s unintelligible cry is still filling his ears, but he doesn’t pull away, stays inside of his brother through his last few thrusts, through the aftershocks, waiting for his dick to soften.

Under him, Sam is trying to shift so he can get his hands on himself, so Dean grabs his wrists and pins them down, still fucking into him slow and lazy.

“Dean, I wanna come. Please.”

Dean lifts his hips one last time, letting his dick slide out of his brother unhurriedly, then turns Sam around. He licks his lips as he looks down at the long, tan body laid under him, and he wishes he could fuck him all over again, facing him like this, with Sam’s ankles digging into his ass—because even when Dean shuts him up with kisses, Sam always finds a way to try calling the shots.

“Dean,” says Sam, drawing it out too long in frustration.

Dean laughs, considering playing dumb, but the urge to get Sam’s dick in his mouth is too intense. He moves down the bed, not wasting any time with teasing licks like he usually does. Sam’s hand slaps down on the back of his head as soon as he’s got his lips on him, and he thrusts up.

“You like hair pulling?” Sam asks, fucking Dean’s mouth. Dean’s hair is just hardly long enough for Sam to get control of him with it, and Sam tugs every few thrusts, watching the spit on Dean’s lips as he shoves him back down. “Still like it?”

Dean feels his head jerk, a short moment of pain as Sam yanks again. He tries to nod and moans around his brother’s dick.

“I’m close,” Sam says then, biting his lip. “Already so close, Dean.”

Dean ignores it, stays focused on trying to keep up with the pace Sam’s setting.

“You want that Dean? You wanna taste me?”

Dean doesn’t bother trying to answer, just brings a hand to Sam’s shaft. Sam loses it then, keening louder than ever, his limbs flailing out as he fills Dean’s mouth. Dean can never get enough of hearing Sam call his name out, and he thinks he hears something break, but it doesn’t seem to matter right now. Right now, all that matters is Sam.

_______________________________________________________________

Dean wakes up the next morning, and the first thing he thinks is that it’s hot. Not the usual ‘I fell asleep under heavy covers with my inferno sasquatch of a brother’ hot that he’s used to. It’s really, really, monumentally fucking hot.

The next thing Dean notices is that something is peeking in on him and Sam in bed, and whatever it is has an eye roughly the size of the window. He pulls the covers over Sam, annoyed for a moment that some douche dinosaur is trying to get a glimpse of them naked, and then he realizes that, probably, the biggest problem in this scenario is not the invasion of his privacy.

He shakes Sam.

“No hunt. Not getting up.”

“Oh, you’re getting up.”

Sam blinks awake and smiles warmly at Dean. “You look good in the sunlight,” he says, reaching out to pull Dean down. “Come on, Dean, lie with me a little longer.”

Dean maneuvers out of Sam’s grasp. “Stop writing sonnets and listen to me, man. Little Foot is outside our window.”

“That’s nice, Dean,” Sam says, turning over in bed. He suddenly shoots up as he faces the window. “Little Foot is a brontosaurus, isn’t he?”

“Yup.”

“So I’m not hallucinating?”

“Nope.”

Sam lets out a frustrated noise, sinks back into bed, and covers his face with a pillow.

“They don’t have Starbucks in Jurassic Park, do they? Because I’m going to need a whole lot of coffee.”

Maybe Dean imagines it, but he’s pretty sure Little Foot is laughing at them with its eye.

_______________________________________________________________

Dean paces from one side of the room to the other. Sam’s sitting up, hair still sticking out at stupid angles, entirely too calm for the situation.

“Stop pacing,” Sam says. “You’re making my head hurt. And I think you’re confusing Little Foot.”

Dean flinches, not really wanting to be reminded that that _thing_ is still waiting right outside. “Why are you calm, Sam? This is no time to be calm, Sam. Haven’t you ever seen any movie with dinosaurs in it, ever, Sam? Because I’m going to give away the ending right now. They _eat us_.”

“Well, not that one. He’s a herbivore.”

“Well, isn’t that nice for him,” Dean snaps. “You know who probably isn’t a herbivore? The hundreds of other species of dinosaurs out there. You ever think of that, whiz kid? Well, did you?”

Sam scrubs a hand over his eye. “Look, Dean, just, pray to Cas, let him know what happened. He’ll get us out of here.”

“It’s not like that anymore, Sammy,” Dean says, sitting at the edge of the bed, reaching for his brother through the covers. He forgets, sometimes, or maybe blocks out, how much Sam missed. How long Dean was riding around with an empty shell instead of the guy watching him fondly. “We don’t matter to him so much now. He doesn’t come to help me.”

“But you said these biblical relic thingamabobs were important to him, right? So tell him we found one and, by the way, can he help us get back to 2011. That’s not so hard, right?”

Dean bites his lip and wonders just how you phrase _so remember these really important things you needed us to find and take care of for you? Well, I was fucking my brother and he kind of broke one and ended up time-traveling with a motel room, is that something you can maybe fix?_ delicately enough to get a positive response.

“I don’t even know if Cas can hear me right now. We’re, like, whatever millions of years away from where we should be.”

“Dean?” Sam says, his voice a little tight.

“Yes?”

“Fucking try, because there are dinosaurs outside and we have no food in here!”

 _Oh, good_ , Dean thinks. _Sam is yelling. I think he finally gets it._

“Uh, Cas, if you can hear me, can you—?”

“I hate both of you very sincerely,” says a gravelly voice behind Dean.

Sam sits up, happy face shining brightly, almost leaping out of bed before he looks down and realizes he’s still naked. “Cas, hey! It’s good to see you.”

“Welcome back from perdition, Sam,” Castiel says. “I would like to take this opportunity to damn you both back there.”

“Wow, you’ve, uh, changed, huh?”

“I’ve been very busy, Sam. Very busy trying to clean up the mess my brothers began, and which you and your brother seem singularly bent on enhancing.”

Dean laughs uncomfortably. “Uh, it was Sam’s fault.”

“You should not have fornicated in such close proximity to the sacred relic,” Castiel informs them. “For obvious reasons, and then there’s things like this to think of, as well.”

“Right, right, sure. We got a little excited. That’s our bad. You think maybe you can pop out some angel mojo and get us back home? It won’t happen again, right Sammy?”

“Damn right. ‘Cause he can find his own angel-jacked crap from now on,” Sam says sourly.

“Not a good time to be pissing off the angel, Sam.”

Sam shrugs. “So are you gonna help us or not?”

Castiel turns to Sam with a surprised look. “I cannot just ‘pop out some angel mojo,' you Neanderthals. Don’t you remember how much it took out of me to bend time before? That was 30 years. This is considerably longer.”

Sam and Dean both blink back at him, equally horrified looks on their faces.

“So what you’re saying,” Dean begins. “Is that we’re stuck here?”

“Perhaps not. Where is the jar?”

Dean points to the broken shards and ashes on the floor. Castiel shakes his head, bends over to touch the shattered pieces. They pull back together, and he picks the vase back up, turning it over to dump the dust still inside it.

“The powder is worthless now that it’s been used once, but getting more should be easy enough. It has to be volcanic ash, fresh from an eruption. Luckily for you two, there are many volcanic eruptions around here, I should be able to find one for you. Once the ash is obtained, I can bless it, and we can use it to restore you to your proper location within time.”

“Does that mean…you want us to go out there?”

Castiel actually smiles at him. “No, Dean. I would really love it if you and Sam had not destroyed something God created only for the Messiah’s private use, but that does not seem to be an option.”

“Alright, alright, point taken.”

“I will find you the soonest eruption within a reasonable distance. I recommend Sam be dressed when I return.”

_______________________________________________________________

“The fortunate news is that there is an eruption tomorrow night, about 100 miles from here.”

“And the unfortunate news is?”

“You will have to get there on your own, I do not have the power to transport you this far out of your lifetime. Also, volcanoes sometimes kill, but that concerns me less than whether or not you can make 100 miles overnight.”

“I don’t think we can, Cas,” Dean says. “Not without my baby.”

“It would be best if you began walking.”

_______________________________________________________________

“Good thing we had some decent weapons in the room,” says Sam.

“But no food,” Dean reminds him.

“Yeah, that’s much more important than not getting eaten.”

Dean crosses his arms over his chest. “Well, if we starve.”

“We won’t starve overnight, Einstein.”

“I might, princess.” Dean looks over at his brother and scowls. “And stop encouraging that thing!”

“Aww,” Sam says, handing his last piece of candy up. “Why not? She’s friendly, and she’ll scare away at least some of the threats.”

“What makes you think Little Foot is a girl?”

“Her name isn’t Little Foot, Dean. Little Foot was a boy. Jennifer is a mother. Look at her belly, you see the way it—”

“I am not checking out the dinosaur, Sam.”

Sam glowers. “Don’t ask if you don’t want the answer.” He punctuates his words with a pat to Jennifer—no, Little Foot’s—snout, probably just because he knows how jumpy it’s making Dean to have a prehistoric land whale trailing them.

“Jennifer is a stupid name for a dinosaur,” Dean informs him.

“She looks like a Jennifer.”

Dean has woken up next to a lot of Jennifers, and none of them looked like this. “I’m sticking to Little Foot.”

The dinosaur makes an upset sound.

“She likes Jennifer,” Sam insists.

“All the more reason to call it Little Foot,” he says. “Because we do not actually want that thing following us."

Sam glares, and they walk in disagreeable silence for a long time.

“Hey, Dean, do you think she’d let us ride her?”

“I don’t know, Sammy. We’re not gonna find out, though, that’s for damn sure.”

“Why not?” He smiles. “We could actually make the volcano if we could make it work. She could be like a prehistoric Impala.”

“Okay, first of all, don’t compare my baby to your pet. Second of all, _please stop treating the dinosaur like a pet_.”

Sam frowns. “But I like her. I think she likes me, too.”

Dean glares, and as soon as Sam turns his head away from them, the dinosaur’s tongue darts out for a moment. Dean decides it’s definitely not mocking him, and, even if it were, Dean is not going to be jealous of some overgrown lizard. Sam totally still likes him better, even if this is giving his brother’s not-so-secret inner nerd a constant boner.

They walk on until nightfall, and Dean is pretty sure they’re not even kind of approaching where they should be at this point in the night. He wants to lay down and sleep, but that wouldn’t be safe, even if they had the time.

“We could take turns sleeping if we were up there,” Sam points out, indicating Jennifer’s back with a nod of his head and a yawn.

“No,” Dean answers, legs dragging through mud.

He wipes the back of his arm over his forehead and tries to take a deep breath. The air is too thick and the heat’s only getting worse and Sam would still rather identify the plants and animals they pass than talk to Dean. Dinosaurs are not as awesome as they seemed in theory. Dinosaurs, he decides, kind of fucking suck.

“Did you hear something?” Sam asks.

“What, you mean aside from the squawking, croaking, explosions, stomping, and general Jurassic Park sound effect reel? No. I’m still kind of focused on all that stuff.”

“This is part of that,” Sam says, stopping mid-pace, and grabbing out for Dean. “Dean, I think I heard,” he swallows hard, “I think I heard something growling.”

Little Foot stops next to them, inclining her head like she’s on alert. She looks a little like a hunter on a job, and that does _not_ make Dean fond of her.

“Oh God,” Dean says. “We’re going to die. It’s going to be raptors, and they’re going to kill us, and we’re going to die.”

Dean tries to take a calming breath, and the thick atmosphere chokes him, making him even more nervous. He begins to calmly hyperventilate.

“Dean, Dean, stop yelling. Please, stop moving, and stop yelling, you’re going to attract attention.”

“Do you know what raptors are, Sam? They only care about eating. They're like zombies, only really fucking smart zombies, with talons and teeth and, oh God. Sam, Sammy.”

Sam cups his face and presses a short kiss to his lips, then breaks away and slaps him. “Pull yourself together, Dean. Are you with me? Nod if you’re following.”

Dean nods slowly.

“This is a hunt.”

Dean nods again.

“It’s just another hunt.”

“Right.” Another nod.

“You like hunts, right?”

Dean wavers, considers saying something along the lines of ‘when I know if my gun is going to work or not,’ but Sam gives him a pointed look, so he just nods.

“This is going to be the coolest hunt ever,” Sam says, smiling a dimpled smile. He sounds like Sam used to as a kid, when he still got excited about hunting, and Dean missed seeing his brother smile so much that his stomach lifts back off the ground, and he suddenly feels confident.

“Fuck yeah,” Dean says. “I bet even Dad never hunted a dinosaur.”

Sam doesn’t point out why it was a stupid thing to say, and Dean appreciates it.

Maybe ten minutes later, something comes barreling through the trees. It’s roughly the size of a building, not as tall as Jenni—Little Foot, but with the advantage of having sharp teeth for killing poor, friendly suckers like her.

She stands her ground, rounds on the—holy fucking shit, is that a T-Rex? Fuck it is—stepping in front of them protectively. Sam grabs Dean’s arm as she tries to fend off an attack, but the T-Rex jumps, sinking his teeth into her.

“Dean! Do something!” Sam says, burying his face in Dean’s shoulder, unable to look at what Dean is pretty sure is going to be a pretty awful death scene for all three of them.

Dean aims for one of the thing’s arms, because they look like a weak spot as far as Dean is concerned, but it doesn’t immobilize the T-Rex, just pisses him off more. Maybe Dean should have thought about tiny bullets sinking into very, very thick flesh a little sooner.

He doesn’t know if it’s a good thing or a bad thing, but the result is that the T-Rex forgets about eating Little Foot and decides it would much rather eat Dean.

It roars and takes a few bumbling steps in his direction, and then a giant tail smacks it out of the way. Definitely changing his opinion of the brontosaurus if he gets out of this alive.

The carnivore turns back to her, roars, and is about to pounce, when something small pops up on top of her head and fires two shots, one into each eye. They blow out pretty nasty, and the T-Rex falls down, which gives Dean a chance to unload his pistol right against its peanut sized brain.

He grins up at his brother, best hunting high he’s had in years. “Holy shit, dude. We just ganked a Tyrannosaurus.”

“Yup,” Sam says, cheerful, like he used to sound over a trip to the ice cream parlor. Dean wonders if he should repeat what he just said, because this deserves way more enthusiasm than a fucking ice cream cone. “And the best part is, I think she’ll let us ride her.”

Jennifer leans down, impossibly long neck serving like a walkway from her head to her back as Dean climbs on.

“This is ridiculous,” he says.

“And awesome,” Sam adds.

“And awesome,” Dean admits, giving Sam a lingering kiss as he settles down.

_______________________________________________________________

They ride the rest of the way on Jennifer’s back. After about half an hour, Sam reaches out and tugs some vines as they walk under trees and uses them to direct her. They manage to make it to the explosion on time, and it feels a little underwhelming how easy it ends up being. Deus ex machina. Almost like they’re in some shitty book, and the author was stuck on where to take the story. Dean reminds himself to ask Chuck about it the next time they see him.

Castiel blesses the ashes as soon as they’ve scooped them into the urn, and he hands it back to Sam, who takes it reluctantly. He bites his lip, and Dean is pretty sure he’s trying to hide trembling.

“Are you sure we can’t take her with us?” he asks, sending one last forlorn look in Jennifer’s direction.

Dean frowns. “Where the fuck would we put her, Sam?”

He turns to Castiel. “Maybe you could shrink her.”

Castiel makes a face that clearly says ‘my work here is done, I wash my hands of you both’ and vanishes.

Dean lets out a long sigh. “I’m sorry, Sammy. She’s a very good dinosaur.”

“The best dinosaur ever,” Sam agrees, patting her snout. She makes a content sound, and it kind of breaks Dean’s heart.

“Definitely. But now we have to say goodbye.”

“But who will protect her? That thing would have won for sure last night if we hadn’t been there. How is she gonna—?” He closes his eyes and shakes his head. “I guess you’re right, Dean.”

Dean puts a soothing hand on Sam’s shoulder and waits for him to say his goodbyes. Once he’s done, he picks the vase up and turns back to Dean.

Dean smiles limply, taking the powder out of the urn and preparing to drop it the way Castiel told them to. The last thing he feels before being tugged forward in time is a huge snout pushing at his back, insistent and fond.

And he’s secretly really going to miss that dinosaur.


End file.
